Back to the Usual

So I'm back this week from some stay-at-home summer holiday.

Everything on Monday was running smoothly and over all it was a nice welcome back to work.  By the afternoon I was marveling at how calm I felt and I wondered how I'd ever let myself get so stressed about work!

So it's near the end of the day and I had pulled over on a quiet street in a shady spot to make a couple quick notes.  Just then, I hear a giant "THUD" and feel the car move like something heavy just got thrown at my passenger side window!  I turned my head quickly and saw a black blur near the bottom of the window before it disappeared.  Thoughts ran through my head - did some kid just whack into my car on their bike/skateboard/wheeled apparatus?  Was someone so upset about me parking in front of their property that they threw something at me?  Did a tree branch fall?

I stretched up and peered  over the (half opened) window to see the biggest, dirtiest black cat I have ever seen.  Scraggly would be an understatement, and you guys - he had a RED eye!  *shudder*

Needless to say it was the creepiest, meanest looking cat I've ever seen.

So, did he jump at me?  Fall out of the tree?  Was he TRYING TO GET IN THE CAR?  I closed the window slowly until he finally sauntered away.

Weird.

First Contact

Meeting a new client for the first time can present many challenges.  Not least of these is figuring out WHO you are meeting.  I mean this literally - as I rarely see clients in the office, and won't go into their home until I know them a bit (and barring extenuating circumstances) I generally make these appointments in some kind of neutral, casual public place ie. coffee shop.  Such places generally have all kinds of people strolling in and out, so without any face recognition, it can be tricky to identify your client. 

I try to ask them for a bit of a physical description when we arrange the meeting.  I have learned that most people are not very good at giving this type of information.  Unless there is a really obvious feature like they use a wheelchair, or have 3-foot long dreads, most people describe themselves in pretty basic terms - I'm kinda short, I have dark hair...useful stuff.  I don't know if this is lack of self-awareness, or self-conciousness that prevents people from being more specific.

So I try to describe myself in order that they can find me.  I try to go with some specifics that won't easily confuse me with others - I have a nose ring, I carry a large purple bag, I wear a red scarf.  But many clients are nervous about a first meeting, and may not approach me.  To be sure some are the complete opposite, but I've had at least one woman sit in her car staring at me through the Tim Horton's window for almost half an hour before she could psych herself up to approach me (I'm really not that intimidating!). 

Then there's always the tried and true but slightly embarrasing method of "asking around"  - is your name Bob?  No?  Sorry to bother you.

I can't help but feel this gives people the impression that I'm there for some really lame mid-afternoon scuzzy-coffee shop blind date or something.

Some clients have cell phones and sometimes they even give me the number, so then I can try to call them.  Hopefully, their phone is turned on.  And hopefully it has minutes.  And hopefully they're not screening calls thus ignoring my "restricted number". 

Usually, we track each other down eventually.  Sometimes we don't.  When this happens it may mean days or weeks of trying to rebook and not miss each other again.  In my experience, when a client and I miss each other the first time, it's not been a good sign for things to come.  These have often turned out to be the clients who don't want to engage, or that I will end up chasing down just to get a few measly face-to-face contacts before they disappear completely. 

I have two new clients to meet this week.  Look for me, I'll be the anxious, jilted looking lady with purple bags under my eyes.

Vehicle of DOOM!!!

Just exactly what you DON'T want to see when you pull into the parking lot at a client's building.

Who Are the People (with Mental Illness) In Your Neighbourhood?

Source: http://bit.ly/qASsuQ

There are a lot of stereotypes and assumptions out there about “who” mental illness sufferers are. No matter how many celebrities write books with “revelations” of suffering bipolar or PPD, or how many families contain at least one Crazy Aunt Mary many persist in believing that mental illness is the domain of the poor, stupid, homeless and criminal.

There is plenty of critical thinking and anti-oppression analysis we could do to figure out why people think this way (and why many with mental illness are vulnerable to becoming poor, homeless etc) but I haven’t the energy/time for that right now.

If any one needs proof that mental illness is something which affects people from all walks of life, they should spend just 5 minutes hanging around the local out-patient centre or treatment clinic.

I accompanied a client to his psychiatrist appointment today at Local Hospital out-patient clinic (I know! I said I’d never go there again, but reality bites). Someone who didn’t know him would see that he is a family man (his wife was with him) is middle aged, and might guess that he is an immigrant (English is his second language).

While we were there I spotted a familiar face that took me a second to place. A woman I recognized from my old neighbourhood - she spent a lot of time hanging around the back alley, lived (sometimes) in a nearby crack-house, and often stopped people to ask for change on the sidewalk. I used to try talking to her sometimes, but it was difficult because her tongue was always protruding (possibly a med side effect or a symptom) and she would usually walk away when I didn’t have any change to offer.

On the way out of the office I recognized a woman I know from my family’s church. She’s a white, upper middle class professional who goes to bible study with my mom. I have actually run into her once before in a psychiatrists office when there with another client. We nodded to acknowledge one another and she seemed happy to leave it at that. We did this once again, adding a smile, when encountering each other at the hospital.

In the span of that five minutes I came across people from a wide cross-section of my own life, and who covered a good range of social locations.  And I know it’s not just me.

Social Work Summer Look Book

Summer provides a particular set of challenges for the housing worker dress code. As always, we must look professional enough for the office, but causal enough meet comfortably with clients in their homes.

Temperatures have been in the 30’s, and even hitting 40 with the humidity so we must try to stay cool. Getting in and out of the car is inevitably hot and sticky. Most clients do not have A/C at home. The office, on the other hand, as well as the many coffee shops, libraries and other public spaces we frequent are chilled to what I’m sure is minus 5 degrees, so layers are important. I’m toting cardigans with me in the middle of a July heat-wave.

We don’t get paid enough to maintain a particularly generous wardrobe which means I rotate the same 2 pairs of shorts and one skirt with great frequency. They are the only things that will allow me some relief from heat, while also allowing me to sit comfortably in some of the less than sparkling clean apartments and rooming houses I visit regularly.

And then there are the shoes.

I read with jealously when SocialJerk disparaged the social worker stereotype of wearing Birkenstocks, because frankly, I’d take any type of sandal right about now no matter how “social worky” they may make me look. But that’s a big no-no. Along with outlawing high heels (makes sense when we are entering all types of settings with a wide variety of health and safety disasters problems concerns) my agency has decided that a fully enclosed heel and closed toe are the only way to go. So the choices are sneakers and socks (which look AWESOME with my shorts and scrawny legs) or some type of flat dress shoes. Either of which leads to sweaty and stinky.

And the cherry on top of this sweaty, sweater-toting, scrawny legged mess? There are some clients who do keep a very neat and tidy home and want me to take my shoes off when I come inside. I’m not allowed to do this, and it’s too bulky to bring along “indoor shoes” so I end up popping on these babies:

Who ever said social work isn’t sexy, hmm?

Monday, Monday

Last night was nice and cool, so I decided to sleep with the windows open.  Somewhere around midnight (waaay past my bedtime) I was roused from my slumber by a man across the street yelling and shouting.  I went to the window to check it out.  A resident of the low-rise on the corner was speaking to him from his balcony, and the man was shouting up to him from the parking lot.  Since he seemed to be handling it, I went back to bed. 

At least 20 minutes later, the man was still shouting and it seemed my neighbour had given up and was no longer trying to deal with him.  He seemed very distressed, and as I moved back to the window, I could better over hear what he was saying - making declarations of love, crying out to God, cursing and threatening seemed to be the dominant themes.  At this point I decided he was more than likely psychotic, or at least in some kind of crisis, and that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until I had done something. 

Deciding it was not exactly a good plan to dash outside in my pj's and try to counsel this stranger, I got on the computer to look up a local mental health crisis number (I live outside my work area, so I am not as familiar with resources in my own neighbourhood).  By the time I got it and went back to the window to try to see him better, he was gone.  I hoped he was safe.

There seemed nothing better to do than go back to bed and try to sleep.  Unfortunately, my furry nocturnal neighbours decided we hadn't had enough excitement in the neighbourhood for one night, and decided to start fighting over my organics recyling bin.  At least, I think that's what they were doing.  Have you ever heard racoons fight?  It sounds like a cross between a dog fight, cats in heat and an 18-wheeler running over somebody's toes. 

Needless to say, I'm feeling less than lively this Monday morning.  How is the start of your week going?

Potty Break

I was at our local disability support office with a client the other day. It’s a nice new building, so I decided to take the opportunity to use a clean and non-scary washroom. I walked in and nearly burst out laughing (which was bad, since I really had to pee) when I saw this sign next to the toilet:

I then turned around and saw this one:

Text: AS A COURTESY TO THE NEXT USER PLEASE OBSERVE THE FOLLOWING: > Do not step on the toilet bowl > Please FLUSH the toilet after use > Keep the whole toilet area clean as you leave. Tissue is cheap. > Please wash your hands after you have finished.

One sign must not have been enough to dissuade these incorrigible washroom destroyers. I guess some people just have no sense of public toilet etiquette.

Foot in Mouth Disease

A co-worker of mine is having a bad week.




She works in the front-reception area of our office. The other day a woman from a community partner came in to pick up a large box of information pamphlets. My co-worker kindly offered to help, as she told the woman she should not have to carry such a heavy load when she was pregnant!



Ah, turns out she wasn’t pregnant.



A day or two later, this same co-worker was at a community event hosting our information booth. She was handing out these little cards we have with a black square in the middle where you press your thumb to read your “mood” (kinda like the old mood rings). Red=tense, blue=relaxed, green=calm etc.



A man approached and she gave him a card. He looked at it and said, what is this, is it working? Oh no, she says, you’re black! Uh, yeah, I know I’m black he says. Because he was. Black. Ack, no, I meant you’re still black she stumbles. Offended and confused, he walked away saying I know that, you don’t have to tell me!



She went from white to about 5 shades of red.



It was good for a laugh back at the office at least. Which we all need every now and then to help go from red to blue (or green, whatever).